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Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Chapter Twenty-FourPart Two – Retribution!

TJ was reluctant to don the female attire but he gave way under gentle persuasion by Flynn who stripped down to his own underwear in a very highly seductive way. TJ got hornier by the second as he watched his intended prey little knowing that he was being set up big time.

The underwear comprising lacy open crotch panties to be covered by a pair of skimpy silk French knickers, a lacy bra and camisole covered the upper part of TJ’s torso while his legs were encased in black fishnet tights. Flynn produced a wig that topped of the cross dresser’s outfit. TJ blushing with embarrassment tottered to get his camera on the high heeled shoes Flynn had supplied for him.

‘Hold on a minute,’ Flynn said, ‘I need to get a good look at you if I am to be turned on sufficiently to give you all you want once you start snapping away.’ He rubbed his bulge as he spoke as a veiled promise to TJ. ‘Sit down on the bed.’

Feeling foolish, TJ sat on the edge of the bed and at a given signal Leon crept into the room wearing briefs and a leather helmet that completely covered his head with eye holes and a slit for his mouth. He came up behind TJ and so was unseen and unheard. Together with Flynn Leon dragged TJ flat on his back and they each snapped hand cuffs on his wrists, securing him to the metal frame of the bed head. Before TJ had time to react, he felt his legs dragged apart and restraints placed around his ankles and his feet secured to the foot of the bed. Spread-eagled, he thrashed about trying to free himself without any success.

‘You fucking ass holes!’ TJ screamed as he continued to tug at his restraints as it became clear to him that things were out of his control. Flynn and Leon just stood quietly looking down at him. Then Flynn put on a mask similar to that worn by Leon. They removed TJ’s wig so that his face could be seen quite clearly. So far the whole of this had been recorded on the video cameras sited around the room. Now it was time for Leon to use a still camera to take shots of TJ as he lay tied to the bed. Firstly with TJ alone and then with the heavily disguised Flynn who jerked on the frantic victim’s cock. Slowly, after each click of the camera more of TJ’s prone body was exposed for the next shot. His tormentors said nothing in response to TJ’s loud threats of violence if he was not released immediately; instead they did more and more to make him look increasing ridiculous.

Leon went out to the kitchen and returned with a tub of ice cream. By now TJ’s genitals were fully exposed and Leon applied large dollops of the near freezing desert to his cock and balls and then rubbed it all over his body. By now TJ and succumbed to his plight and his shouts had reduced to a whimper as he felt completely humiliated by his two aggressors.

‘Have you any idea why this is being done to you?’ Flynn asked TJ.

‘No,’ he replied.

‘This is being done because of what you did with the pictures you took of Leon,’ Flynn told him. ‘Not only have you been photographed like this but we also have video of you and if you so much as lift a finger against us when we release you the photos and video will be published on the Internet and submitted to gay fetish magazines together with your full identity, do you understand?’

It was a humbled and repentant TJ who was finally released from his bonds and allowed to go into the bathroom to clean up. He did not take long and soon gathered up his own clothes and having put them on left the apartment slamming the door in fury behind him. Leon turned to Flynn saying, ‘Do you think that has really made him regret what he did to me?’

‘I am sure but when he gets his copy of the DVD he will know that we mean business and that if he puts a foot wrong in future he will be ridiculed for the world to see.’

‘You took a risk for me, things may not have gone as planned, so I am grateful to you and your friends who must be watching us even now from the next room.’

‘I suppose they are. Maybe they were disappointed by what took place here. They may have expected more but it was never my intention to have sex with TJ, he did nothing to deserve that and I did not want him to have the opportunity to turn tables on me and have the option to accuse me of assaulting him.’

‘There is one way in which we could give our ‘audience’ the titillation they may have been hoping for,’ Leon said.

‘Do you mean what I think you mean?’ Flynn replied with a wicked grin.

‘Sure! Get those briefs off and get on that bed, never mind the remains of that ice cream, they will have warmed up by now.’ Flynn slipped off his briefs and lay on the bed, Leon did the same only he lay on Flynn. He pressed his lips on Flynn’s and they were locked in a kiss that started more as a joke only to end as a warm and appreciative exchange. Leon used his tongue and lips to explore, tease and caress Flynn from his face to his arm pits and chest, lingering over his nipples teasing them to erection before following down the hairy treasure trail to the quivering cock that was already firm and ready for action.

The watchers in the second bedroom were enthralled as they saw the two lithe bodies perform with a natural ease ranging from fellatio to rimming and finally to full on penetration. As a live sex show, the actions of Leon and Flynn were unsurpassed.

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

The next day Flynn handed TJ an edited copy of a DVD. TJ took it to the trailer and watched in horror as the movie showed him as he was undressing and putting on the female clothes and being humiliated on the bed by two unrecognizable individuals. The way the movie was presented he appeared as a fully compliant participant in the action. He had been warned that the DVD would be circulated to gay clubs and other places if he did not mend his ways.

Ted was aware of a change that had come over his son; he no longer seemed to be the cocky individual he had been. It was also noticeable that he was not hanging around Flynn while he worked and Ted became more relaxed in Flynn’s company, he would sit with him during their breaks from work and chat, enjoying the company of his bright young employee. Flynn warmed toward the man, thinking all the time what it might be like to have sex with an older man.

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Chaz almost got what he wanted...."I'm assuming there is plenty of beer/booze (for TJ), whipped cream, chocolate syrup, candles, clothes pins, markers, etc., etc., and other possible 'visuals' on hand, Yes?" Well, only the ice cream and handcuffs but that was enough to fill the bill... Wow! TJ now knows not to play dirty with our boys. I am a little jealous though. Leon went for Flynn - and I thought he liked me. But that's OK, he's still a cool guy.

Chaz is right, we still have TED!!!! Maybe there is a "like son, like father" twist here..........

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Chapter Twenty-Five

As the weeks passed, the work on the building conversion reached completion and a bond of friendship grew between Ted and Flynn. The burly builder seemed more like an older brother than a father like figure to Flynn as they sat and joked over their coffee during breaks or those times when they ate their lunch. It was in the final week before Flynn was due to go back to University that the reconstruction was finally completed and he was helping to move furniture in. Flynn was helping Ted to assemble the base of the king sized bed for the master bedroom when as much as a joke as anything he said, ‘We should christen this, it looks so comfy.’

Ted, having finished with the building work, was looking clean in fresh clothes and presenting a quite different image from the one that Flynn had seen when he first came to work for Webster. The big man laughed and kicking off his shoes lay down on the mattress they had placed on the bed base. Flynn did likewise and lay down beside him.

‘Together, we’ve done a fine job,’ Ted said. ‘I made more progress with your help than I did with the help I had before you came, thanks Flynn. I would like to reward you in some way.’

‘You have paid me good wages and your thanks and appreciation is reward enough,’ Flynn replied.

‘I only wish my son was more like you,’ Ted said with a note of regret in his voice. ‘I spoiled him to make up for the loss of his mother but found it difficult to show him any real affection.’

‘Maybe that is why he pursued the guys who came to work for you, he was jealous of your relationship with them - he wanted your attention and love for himself.’

‘Maybe you’re right,’ Ted replied. They lay silently together for several minutes and Flynn then reached across and placed a hand on Ted’s arm. Ted turned to Flynn and looked down into his eyes, ‘I.. I... ‘ He stammered, not knowing what to say or how to react to the young man’s touch.

‘Don’t say anything,’ Flynn said. ‘Kiss me.’ He felt Ted’s lips brush his own, a very tender touch from such a big man.

‘Do you mind?’ Ted asked as he put a hand under Flynn’s t-shirt and brushed it over his body.

‘No... it’s fine,’ Ted replied, his voice hoarse with desire for this man.

Ted carefully removed Flynn’s t-shirt, then unfastened his belt and pulled down the zipper on his jeans. Flynn could feel Ted’s hot breath on his body as the big guy slowly undressed him.

‘You look good,’ Ted murmured as his eyes wandered appreciatively over Flynn’s prone body. Flynn’s penis was flaccid but already elongated as it lay temptingly across the apex of his right thigh. Ted lifted it and turned it in his hand admiring its colour and the generous size of the bell end.

‘May I suck it?’ Ted asked.

‘Sure,’ Flynn said his voice hardly more than a whisper as he was trembling with excitement brought on by the action he had been anticipating for weeks. He bucked as the warm wet mouth closed over the length of his cock. Ted swallowed the whole of Flynn’s dick without any sign of gagging, clearly practiced in the art of cock sucking.

‘You’ve done this before,’ Flynn gasped having found his voice. Ted released Flynn’s cock and looking up at him with a broad grin said, ‘Yes, signs of a misspent youth I guess but I have not had much practice for far too long,’ having said that he returned to the task of sucking Flynn off. He sucked on Flynn’s balls taking ach one in turn before running his tongue down to tease the tight butt hole that was almost lost in the indentation of the mattress.

‘Turn over,’ Ted said. Flynn did as he was told and Ted placed his hands under the young man’s hips drawing his butt up so that he could rim him with greater ease. Flynn heard a grunt as Ted tugged his own pants down and then felt slaps on his buttocks that could only be from Ted’s long hard cock as he whacked it on the round white cheeks that had been screened from the sun’s tanning by Flynn’s Speedos. Using spit for lube Ted brushed his hard cock up and down Flynn’s hairy crack, a spit slicked finger probed and eased open the tight hole preparing it for penetration by his thick, long veined banana-like rod.

Flynn felt as though his butt would split until it had settled to accommodate the hard tumescence Ted was moving gently into and out from his hole. Flynn’s butt and thighs were tickled by the generous covering of hair that Ted had on those parts of his body that made contact with each and every thrust.

Flynn’s face was being driven into the coarse fabric of the mattress as Ted worked him from behind and in an effort to find a more comfortable position he struggled onto his back with his hands clasped behind his knees so that his ass was positioned to accept Ted’s thrusts.

‘Yes Daddy, fuck my ass! Oh damn that feels so good!’ Flynn cried out as Ted’s cock rubbed against his G-spot now that he was in the new position. He could see the sweat running down through the wiry black hair that covered Ted’s enormous chest, through the treasure trail that ended in the thicket that surrounded the big man’s cock. The bed was shaking with the rapid thrusting that Ted continued to apply to Flynn’s tight-fitting hole. As the thrust grew more and more frantic Flynn could see Ted’s fact screwed in the ecstasy that was the portent of his ejaculation. Hot jets of cum filled Flynn’s ass and Ted slowed down and finally withdrew in a welter of hot wetness to collapse on the bed alongside Flynn.

As Ted lay gasping for breath, Flynn stepped down off the bed and tugged Ted’s sagging pants off altogether. Applying all his strength he dragged the big man to the end of the bed so that his butt was hanging over it.

He pushed up on the tow tree-trunk like legs and plunged his dick into the dark sweat-slicked mass surrounding his anus. His dick was lubed with copious amounts of pre-cum and it slipped into position with the minimum of effort. As Flynn found a satisfactory rhythm, Ted grunted and groaned with pleasure mindful of the joy he had experienced when it had been his turn to fuck the energetic youth who was reciprocating in kind.

Flynn, already taken to the edge by Ted’s fucking found that he could not last any longer and he withdrew his cock in time for his load to spurt all over Ted’s body, anointing his hairy abdomen and chest with shining white droplets of seed. Ted sat up and drawing Flynn to him sucked the last of the semen from his throbbing cock s his hands clasped Flynn’s rock firm butt cheeks.

As they lay side by side breathing heavily and sinking into post coital euphoria Flynn laughed saying, ‘It think we can say that this bed has been well and truly broken in if not actually christened.’

‘Too right,’ Ted agreed. ‘Let’s go and shower and then I will take you to dinner. You have earned it and I need to re-energise after what has been the best fuck I have had in years.’

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Not only an erotic chapter but a beautiful pic to go along with it. Flynn probably learned more through his summer break than an entire year at uni. I certainly enjoyed the photo shoot we all did with TJ....and the frivolity that ensued with Flynn and Leon. Now is only I can find my copy of the DVD... Thanks Auto for a sterling story.

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

There's something real special about the back seat. It's been the scene of action several times..........Besides it give a great view of Chaz and Flynn in the front seat. That is between breaths and other things...

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

The episodes from Flynn's story filled the time that our two main characters were enjoying the delights of a winter break. They are home now and what follows may help fill hours of idle curiosity...

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Their cruise vacation was over and George together with Scott settled into their winter routine, cleaning and repairing and where necessary applying paint and varnish in readiness for the reopening of their hotel in the spring. With the absence of guest in the meanwhile, it meant that they were missing the evening’s entertainment they provided with their stories. George decided to indulge his hobby of collecting old books. He had quite a few, many of them banned at the time they were published as they were considered too profane for the public readership by both governments and the church. Many that had been deemed obscene by legislators had re-emerged in more liberal times but those on the church’s banned list were seemingly lost forever, stocks having been collected and burned. George would trawl through the stocks of antiquarian bookshops in the vain hope of finding such treasures but with little success.

However, one day in the duty corner of such a shop he found a pile of manuscripts. Some were hand written others were typed but none appeared to have ever been published in print. George called the shopkeeper over and asked about the manuscripts.

‘Those? Oh I acquired them from a house clearance many years ago. An old man who had a private press had died and his family wanted to get rid of material they found in the house and asked if I was interested. They were anxious to get rid of the stuff and didn’t require payment. As I got them for free, you are welcome to take any or all for just ten dollars. George didn’t have to think over the offer for long before he offered a ten dollar bill to the shopkeeper and with the manuscripts tucked into two plastic shopping bags mad his way home.

‘What in the name of all that’s holy have you dragged home now?’ Scott exclaimed.

‘Manuscripts of unpublished short stories, novellas as well as letters and diaries at a first glance,’ George replied. ‘We may find something of interest. It appears to be stuff that was rejected by publishers as unfit for printing, even the old guy who ran an underground private press did not use them.’

‘Then they must be of no interest whatsoever, put them in the trash where they belong. On second thought burn them, we don’t want them to be blowing around a tip if they can be traced back to us, we need to preserve at least a little of our reputation!’ Scott said angrily. ‘What a waste of money!’

‘Ten dollars is not a great loss and I will read through these before I do anything drastic with them. The old man held on to them for some reason otherwise he would have lit his fire with them if the authors did not want them back,’ George replied.
‘Well, if you do find something worth reading let me know,’ Scott said. ‘I’ll not hold my breath!’

A few nights later when they had settled down after dinner, George produced one of the manuscripts. ‘Scott, I think you may like this one,’ he said.

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Chapter Twenty-Six

Secrets of the Confessional

The short winter day was drawing to a close and in the fading light the first few flakes of snow started to fall. At first they melted as they touched the ground but then some started to survive as the air grew colder and soon the land was white. A pale light shone above the oak door of the bishop’s house as a dark figure made its way up the short path to the worn sandstone stoop. The shoulders of his black greatcoat were white with the snow as he reached out to pull on the bell chain. He heard the bell sound from deep within the house and after what seemed to be a lengthy wait in the freezing cold; the door swung open a few inches.

‘Who’s there?’ a gruff voice demanded as a pale face was partially visible around the edge f the great door.

‘Michael, Father Michael from Melchester parish. I need to see the bishop.’

‘It’ late, his grace is resting. Come back in the morning.’

‘Who is it?’ Another voice called from within the darkened house.

‘He says he is Father Michael, your grace.’

‘Well show him in Martha don’t let him stand out there in the cold!’

The old crone who kept house for the bishop stepped aside and the door opened wider for the priest to enter. He stamped his feet on the doormat to shed the snow that had adhered to his boots and removing his coat he shook the snow from it out the door before it was slammed shut behind him by the agitated old woman.

‘Come, come this way,’ the bishop said from the door on the priest’s right hand side. He followed where the older man led and entered a room lit only by a table lamp alongside a chair before a glowing coal fire in the large hearth.

‘Here, sit and warm yourself you look frozen,’ the kindly prelate said, pulling a chair close to his own in front of the warm coals. ‘What is so urgent that it has to bring you out on such a night and could not wait until morning?’

The newcomer sat shivering in his chair, his face contorted as though he was in pain. With the warmth from the fire on his front he began to feel its comfort and his teeth ceased to chatter.

‘I apologise for this late intrusion your grace. I have sinned and come not for forgiveness but to be released from my vows as a priest.’ His face had turned imploringly toward the older, white haired man who for the past few years had been both guide and mentor to him.

‘I do not understand,’ the bishop said. ‘You show such promise and have a great future in our mother church, why you could be a successor to my throne in the cathedral when it becomes vacant. I am old, too old to expect further advancement myself but I cannot be many more years for this life.’

‘Your grace is kind but I am not worthy of what you suggest. I have sinned, broken my vows and deserve only to be cast out but first you must hear be recant my vows, if only then to hear my confession and release my very soul from the grip of hell.’

‘You speak as though one possessed. I cannot release you from your vows without good reason. Maybe you should make your confession and then I may consider your demands. You are a good priest, loved by your congregation, why must you forgo you vocation and desert those to whom you owe a duty of love and care my son?’

‘Would that I was your son in truth and not merely in the eyes of the church we both serve for then it would be so much easier to throw myself on your mercy. A more earthly father would have some understanding of my dilemma.’

‘You misunderstand me my son, I am of this earth, I have all the attributes of a man as well as a calling from God. Whatever it is that pains you, causes you to want to throw off your vocation, I can listen and hope to offer you solace. Tell me, explain yourself.’

‘It will be best if I tell you everything although it shames me beyond all measure to speak of this event. I will start from the very beginning.’ Michael sat quietly for a moment or so gathering his thoughts while the bishop reached out for the glass of wine that he had neglected on the table by the lamp. He took a sip and settled back to listen to what the young priest had to say.

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

I, too, await the continuance of this intriguing story. Perhaps to be but a tiny mouse in the corner by the hearth. Not oft do we have such visitors so late in the evening. Particularly one of such character as Father Michael. His story may well be a sad and troubling one or possibly one of joy and happiness. We must wait for the author to bring whichever it will be into the light.

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

“It was early in the summer and I was sat in the church half thinking half praying, my mind was racing as I was faced with a problem. Winter storms had left their mark on the building of our ancient parish church and repairs were vital. The warm, dry summer days offered the best opportunity for the work to be done but ours was a poor parish and the cost would be far beyond anything we could afford. Our only asset, if you could call it that was a hole in the ground; the hole from which the stone to build the church had been quarried. The local community was an aging one as the young people moved away to the industrial towns in the north to earn a living that would give them standards of which their forebears could but dream. The few agricultural workers and old folk that made up the congregation had given what little they could afford and we were far short of the funds needed to pay for the repairs.

As I sat contemplating I was aware of a sound at the door at the top of the nave behind me. I turned to look and saw what was like a vision. With the late afternoon sun streaming in from behind him a golden youth stood in the doorway. At first I thought I was seeing an angel sent from heaven such was the light behind the figure that made his blond curls look as though they were a fiery halo. As he spoke, I came to my senses. The young man approached and stood at the end of the pew where I was sitting.

‘Good day father,’ he said. ‘I have been told that there could be work for me here.’

‘Work? What kind of work?’ I asked, taken aback by what he had said.

‘I am a stone mason or should I say a journeyman stone mason as I am fresh out of my apprenticeship and I see your church is in need of repair.’

‘We do need repairs, that is true but there are no funds to pay for the work, we cannot afford to employ you.’

‘I am prepared to work for bed and board nothing else, so your only cost would be those for materials. I can reuse stone wherever possible to keep costs at a minimum.’

His offer seemed to me to be an answer to my prayers. Had God sent this youth I wondered? It seemed too good to be true and I pinched myself to see whether or not I was dreaming.

‘We have the stone,’ I said. The words tumbled from my lips as my mind was in a whirl, this whole situation seemed totally unreal.

He sat down beside me, placing his bag containing his few belongings and tools of his trade on the floor. ‘As I said, I am a stone mason. I can make the repairs and seek no payment other than my keep and a place to sleep. If as you say you have the necessary stone, the work can be done at virtually no cost.’

‘You are sure of this?’ I asked in amazement. ‘There is a room at the presbytery. The facilities are basic as is my diet but to what is mind to share you are welcome should that be all you desire while you work on the church.’

‘I shall be more than grateful for your offer. I need some work that will show I am an able mason; finished work that will qualify me for employment on great projects such as the new cathedral in the city. It is not enough for me to show my indentures, I need to demonstrate my skills as proof of my worth.’

‘Come and join me for supper, we can discuss this further,’ I said and led him from the church to the humble building I called home. While I heated up soup and cut off chunks of crusty bread my guest went out into the yard behind the house to wash off the dust he had acquired on his journey and he then joined me at the scrubbed pine table that I had laid in readiness for our meal.

‘I have yet to introduce myself properly,’ my guest said. ‘My name is Christopher Mason. Our family name reflects my craft as my father and his father before him were stone masons. I know you are Father Michael, as your name is posted by the church door.’

‘How do your friends address you?’ I asked.

‘Several of my contemporaries are called Christopher so we had to find way s of distinguishing us one from the other. I became known as Lucian and am happy to answer to my nickname.’

‘Then I shall call you Lucian’ He told me something of his family life and his experience while serving his apprenticeship with a stone mason known to his father as they had been apprentices together as young men. I asked why Lucian did not learn his trade from his father and he explained that his guild required all apprentices to serve under masters who were not immediate family members. An apprentice gained further experience as a journeyman and could then join the family firm, seek employment with another master mason or set up on his own. Lucian was seeking to expand his horizons and to polish his skills. I explained that we needed basic repairs done on the stonework of the church and I couldn’t be sure that any of that would add to his abilities.

‘All work gives experience and I may be able to surprise you with the results of my labour.’ Lucian replied. ‘Where will you get new stone if needed?’

‘There we are in luck. We have a small quarry nearby that belongs to the parish and it was from there that the original stone was brought,’ I explained. ‘I will show you in the morning; meanwhile you must be tired as you have been walking most of the day. Let me show you to your room.’

*****************************************

The next day after the morning service, I took Lucian across to the quarry. He climbed down and examined the stone left scattered on the ground after the last quarrymen had worked there. He also looked at the rock face and then climbed back up to where I had been standing watching him and said that there were several useful pieces of stone but he may have to cut more. There was the problem of the tools for the job. I told him that there were some of the quarry tools in a small outhouse behind the presbytery and together we went to view them. Lucian looked them over and said that there was all he would need but that he might need some help. I told him that I had no experience of quarrying but cold assist under his directions, and that was decided upon.

Over the next few weeks, Lucian busied himself working on the church and to my great joy he was not only shaping stone to replace those that had fallen in the storm but also was carving decorative work to enhance the character and beauty of the church. The parishioners were full of praise for what he was doing and when they heard that he was not charging for his labour but relied upon me to provide him with accommodation and food, they would bring gifts of fruit and vegetables and other food such as a rabbit or a hock of bacon to replenish our shared larder. All was going well and then one day Lucian said it would be necessary to cut some new stone from the quarry. Together we collected tools and heavy hammers from the tool store and made our way to the quarry. It was hot and hard work but we managed to hack blocks of fresh stone from the quarry face and using a double handled saw together we cut slabs of stone into blocks that could be moved up to the church.

We were sweating profusely and the saw dust had adhered to our faces, arms and upper bodies like fine sand from a beach. Once we had transferred the required blocks to the church we went to the yard at the back of the house and stripped off so that we could wash down with water from the pump. The yard was enclosed and so we were able to strip naked without being seen. I had glimpses of Lucian as he had washed under the pump before but this was the first time that I had a full and uninterrupted view of him, fully naked. His body was finely honed and he looked magnificent as his wet body glistened in the summer sun. That night as I lay in my bed the image of that manly body was fixed in my mind and I was ashamed of myself for the way in which I felt about Lucian. For the first time in my life I had to admit that I was lusting after him.

Over the next week or so I tried my utmost to drive those thoughts from my mind. I tried to avoid watching him as he worked and would find an excuse if he suggested we went together to the quarry. I prayed forgiveness for my unclean thoughts but I could not get him out of my mind. He was there in my waking hours and in my dreams that became more and more frequent. I would wake sweating, and dare I say erect even finding my intimate parts covered with ejaculate to my great shame. I told myself that this was a test of my faith. Temptation was there to test my vow of chastity, it was God’s way and that by putting such thoughts in my mind and dreams he was giving me the opportunity to demonstrate my devotion to my calling.

The dreams persisted and became still more vivid as the days passed and I would see Lucian as he worked and I was unable to resist watching him as he bathed in the yard. We would take our meals together and converse about his progress on the church repairs and refurbishment. He created a new font, one with intricate carving of goats and other horned animals upon it to the amazement of the congregation. As the summer drew to a close and the autumn days grew shorter, Lucian declared he had done all he could and it was time for him to be on his way. The churchwardens decided that his departure should not go unmarked and arrangements were made for a farewell dinner for him in the village inn.

The elders gathered for the event and speeches were made, a farmer had supplied a pig to be roasted and ale and wine flowed freely. A good time was had by all and Lucian and I were carried shoulder high back to the presbytery at the end of the feast. We waved goodbye to the revellers as they staggered off to their respective homes and arm in arm we made our way into the house. Relaxed by the drink and in such a cheery mood we laughed and hugged one another, Lucian and I. Who made the first move, I cannot say but our hugs became embraces as our lips met in a tentative kiss. Overcome by desire and casting aside all caution we stripped off our clothes and lay together in my bed.

His hand was on my tumescence and I felt his manhood pressing hard against my thigh. We moved together so that our erections were gripped between us and we rocked our bodies to enhance the sensations that our contact provided. In frenzy we licked one another’s bodies, we kissed fervently and suddenly his mouth was on my penis. My wildest dreams became a reality as I allowed him to bring me to a climax. Lucian’s cock was as hard as any stone that he had chiselled and he probed my anus with it causing me to cry out until he had penetrated me and my muscle had learned to accommodate his engorgement. We rutted like animals of the field turn and turn about until we were both overcome with exhaustion.

The next day Lucian said that he would be on his way and I pleaded with him to stay. He said that he had to go; he needed to find other work, work that would pay him in cash rather than kind but he would return to me in due course. Accepting the situation, I tried to forget him while I gave all my attention to my pastoral duties. There were reminders of him all around the church and my nights were troubled with more dreams filled with lust. In time, as he had not returned, I told myself that he had not been sent by God but by the Devil and that I had sold my soul to him by succumbing to temptation of the flesh. I am no longer a worthy member of the church and no longer fit to be a priest.“

The bishop had listened intently to what Father Michael had to say. ‘I can give you absolution but as for releasing you from your vows, that is beyond my control. You can repent and carry on but if you feel that is impossible you can resign and go on your way choosing whatever path you wish to follow in the future.’
The young priest thanked the bishop for hearing him out and left feeling heartbroken as nothing the older man had said had really helped him with the burden of guilt he carried. He strode off into the night and made his lonely way back to his parish.

The next day his parishioners were surprised to find the church closed and the priest nowhere to be seen. A week passed and still there was no sign of Father Michael until one day some children were playing near the quarry and saw a body lying at the bottom of it in the snow. As they ran home they met the churchwarden who was walking to the church. Grabbing his coat tails they pulled him to the quarry where it was the priest who was found frozen in the snow.

The bishop was called upon to conduct the funeral service but he did not say that the priest had been to visit him. No one knew why father Michael had been out that night and all assumed he had missed his way and fallen accidentally to his death. The bishop sent out messengers seeking the whereabouts of a Lucian Mason but they all returned none having found him or anyone who had even heard of him beyond the village. The man remained a mystery.

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Auto, I find it a sad and tragic story, yet on the other hand, a beautifully romantic one as well. Father Michael was given the opportunity of witnessing the pleasures of life, but to the downfall and test of his faith. As Don commented on the horned animals on the font, I also now understand the nickname "Lucian." It is also a curiosity that his given name was CHRISTopher. So, who knows whether he was sent by God or was in fact Lucifer? Very intriguing tale and obviously still a mystery.

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

‘That was an interesting story,’ Scott admitted. ‘I can understand why it may not have been put into print.’

‘Why do you say that?’ George asked.

‘It could offend the church.’

‘There has been plenty worse that has gone into print. The story does have some sort of moral I guess,’ George offered.

‘What could that be then?’ Scott asked.

‘Whatever you want, I guess. Here let’s look at another one. This could be worth reading,’ George said as he picked another manuscript from the pile.

What follows is the manuscript that George had selected:

The Servant of Two Masters.

He sat and waited. He had been waiting for the best part of an hour. While he waited he grew ever more tense in anticipation of what was to follow. This had become an almost nightly ritual for several weeks. He tried to recall just how many weeks he had been back in the family home following his time at university. That had been the best time of his life to date. Never had he enjoyed so much freedom. Here at home he was bound by the strict protocol that was observed by people that his father referred to as ‘our class.’ Wealth and position had its vast advantages but those who benefited from its power and influence were continually in the public eye and bound to behave impeccably if they were not to be hounded by those who sought their downfall. These were difficult times; the shift from the land into industry had brought about a change in the attitudes of the peasantry. They were forming unions and a new radical political class was speaking out against the autocratic rule of the monarch. He was being denounced as a tyrant and his secret police was kept busy rounding up dissenters who, once arrested, disappeared into the dark confines of the ancient prison in the heart of the city never to be seen again.

When studying abroad he had his own rooms where he could entertain in private. Here, back at home he had his own bedroom and bathroom but even that was not truly private as any visitor would have to pass through the house under the eyes of both family and the household staff. He needed his own space with a separate entrance so that his guests could come and go unhindered. For now he was obliged to use the boathouse. It was a stone building with a lower section to accommodate the small motor launch his father used on the lake and an upper floor that served as a sitting room cum diner and a small room for changing for swimming together with a bathroom. Quite ideal for a clandestine meeting such as that he had in mind.

He was Felix, the son and heir to the estate and Felix was anxiously awaiting the arrival of Bruno. A year or so his junior, Bruno had recently joined his father’s household staff and Felix was immediately attracted to his slim, fit looking body, his dark and brooding eyes that had long lashes that were the envy of the women who saw him. In fact women all but swooned when they saw the handsome young man and many wondered what it would be like to coax the duke’s new footman into their bed; women who would be grieved to know that what they had only thought about had been achieved by the duke’s equally attractive son.

There was a sound as the door to the boathouse opened and closed followed by footsteps on the creaking wooden stairs. Felix stood to greet the newcomer his face alight with the expectation of Bruno’s arrival. But it was not Bruno but Alicia his sister that entered the room. She must have noticed his sudden look of disappointment when she asked, ‘Felix, what are you doing here at this hour?’

‘I might ask the same of you?’ Felix replied. His sister sat in a chair and looked up at him, wondering why he was looking so distraught. ‘Felix, you would tell me if something is wrong?’ she said her voice full of concern for her adored brother. ‘Only I have seen you leave the house and come in this direction at night on several occasions.’

‘No sis, nothing is wrong. That is to say nothing is troubling me apart from the fact that you are here now and you should not be out at this time of night, you should go back to the house quickly.’

‘But I have also seen someone else come this way, someone who would seem to be following you. Are you sure there is nothing wrong?’

‘Nothing that you would understand, Alicia. Now you must go.’ Felix replied, his anxiety growing as he heard the sound of the ground floor door being opened again and the tread of feet on the stairs.

‘There is someone!’ Alicia exclaimed and she stood up looking in the direction of the stairs, he eyes wide with surprise when she saw Bruno. The footman was an unusual sight for the young woman, who had only seen him in his uniform as he went about his duties. Now he was wearing a loose shirt and a pair of cotton trousers, his hair ruffled and a look of surprise on his face. Ever a quick thinker, Bruno summed up the situation and in an effort to cover the true intent of his presence asked, ‘I saw you come this way sir, and I thought I would come to see whether there is anything you need now that the rest of the staff had retired for the night.’

‘Err, nnn...no,’ Felix stammered unsure as to how best to respond. ‘The Lady Alicia and I were merely having a conversation.’

‘It is you,’ Alicia said. ‘You are the one that I have seen coming here nightly. ‘Felix, tell me why are you and this footman meeting here like this?’

‘Alicia, you don’t know what you are asking. I must ask you to leave and go back to the house. If you love me, do not say anything about this to anyone. Just go.’

‘I think I do understand... tell me, is it true... you are lovers?’

Bruno had stood silently during this exchange now he looked at Felix, fearful of what he might say. By admitting their love for one another, Felix could jeopardise them both, in any event his position could be on the line if Alicia was to speak of this.’

‘Alicia, if you will not go back to the house, then I will explain but only if you swear by all that’s holy that what I tell you is to be a secret between us. Unless you give me your solemn promise, I can tell you nothing.’

‘I’ll keep your secret; it will not be the first between us, Felix dear. You know I would never do anything that would harm you in any way.’

‘I am not as other men. I have known for as long as I can remember that Ii am attracted to my own sex. You realise what that means?’ Felix implored.

‘Yes, I do understand and know what the penalties can be if you are betrayed. I promise not to speak of this but ask you to put this... this... infatuation behind you. You are to be engaged to my dearest friend this very week. How can you deny her?’

‘Emmaline has been like another sister to me. Our fathers have decided our union. I cannot, I will not enter into marriage with her for both our sakes,’ Felix said tears rolling down his cheeks.

‘How can you say that? How can you back out of the arrangement now that you have let it go this far?’ Alicia cried.

‘I am planning on leaving here tomorrow, Bruno is here to discuss the final arrangements with me, now please leave us and be true to your promise, say nothing of this.’ Felix said. His sister angrily turned on her heel and left the building. Felix watched through the window as she made her way over the lawn and out of sight through the trees as she sped back to the house.

Until now, Bruno had stood silently watching the exchange between the siblings. ‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘I am late but your father kept me. His valet has taken the night off as he in unwell and the master wanted me to help him prepare for bed.’

‘It was probably as well you were late, imagine my sister’s reaction had she seen us together; it is bad enough that she knows of our relationship.’ Felix said as he reached out to Bruno and clasped him in a tight hug. ‘I have waited all day for this moment and now that it has come, I fear that I am too agitated by what has happened here this evening to stay longer. We must go back to the house separately, of course. I will meet you at the stables at nine o’clock tomorrow. No one will suspect us at that time as I usually go for my morning ride at that hour and you will have completed your morning duties.’

‘Felix, my only worry is that I shall have to wait on your father in the absence of his valet and you know he can be tardy in the morning. I will do my best to meet you at nine.’

oooooOOOOOooooo

The following morning Felix was stamping his feet as he stood in the cold outside the stable block. ‘Where the hell is he?’ he muttered to himself as he checked his pocket watch for the hundredth time. Bruno was late. The coachman was becoming impatient and the horse between the shafts of the carriage was also showing signs of his eagerness to be underway. Just when Felix was about to give up all hope, Bruno appeared running in his direction. The two young men piled into the carriage and Felix told the coachman to head for the rail station with all speed as they will otherwise miss the train.

‘What kept you? I had almost given you up and gone on alone,’ Felix said angrily.

‘Sorry, it was your father. He insisted that I waited until he had had his bath. I then had to help him dress and he changed his clothes some three times before he was happy with what he should wear for the morning. I am only glad that I shall not be there to help him change later in the day or for dinner this evening!’

‘Well you won’t have to worry about him any longer. When we step off the train in Paris and set up in our new home you will be a gentleman like me and we shall have servants of our own!’

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Oh how I love the romance of two young men....class and position be damned... This sounds like it will be quite juicy, Auto. Will Alicia keep her promise? Will Felix be denounced and loose his inheritance? Is Bruno truly in love with Felix or is this a way of bettering himself? Oh, what horrors of having such suspense put upon me. Continue soon, Auto.

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Paris at last! The apartment was quite grand, situated on the upper floor of a tall building overlooking the boulevard near the ornate Porte St. Denis, where the carriages and horses with their riders added to the bustle of pedestrians that populated the area.

The concierge who popped out from her cubby hole each time they entered from the street greeted them with a humble bow and a mumbled ‘Bon Jour’ or ‘Bon nuit’ depending upon the time of day, was a withered old crone dressed entirely in black. Her appearance was almost like that of a spider waiting in the corner of its web for an unsuspecting fly to be caught in the sticky fronds. Felix and Bruno would acknowledge her greeting with a jovial reply for it was unwise to fall foul of the woman who guarded the door and accepted deliveries of mail and goods on their behalf. They would scurry up the several flights of stairs to their rooms which were both bright and commodious. Felix had inherited the apartment from an aunt along with a small fortune that enabled him to live independently of his father. Bruno, the illegitimate son of an actress, may have lacked wealth and property but his handsome, godlike good looks more than compensated for such earthly deficiencies.

Upon their arrival in Paris, the pair had made their way to the apartment and had made good their enforced abstinence from sexual delights while travelling. They had spent two nights and two days wrapped in each other’s embrace pausing only to attend to calls of nature and the occasional snack. ‘Why bother with food while we can feed on love?’ Felix had exclaimed. Their lust for one another’s bodies was all but insatiable.

Felix had lusted after Bruno from the first moment that he appeared at his father’s estate. The young man was employed as a general factotum at the very beginning and was seldom seen above stairs; Felix would only catch a glimpse of him from time to time as he went to the stables to collect his horse for his morning ride. Then came the day when Bruno appeared in his new footman’s uniform. The tight white breeches fit his thighs and ass to perfection and as he waited at table, Felix had to drop his napkin in his lap to hide his burgeoning erection. He felt Bruno brush against him as he leaned over to place his plate on the table before him. He looked up and caught the wink that Bruno gave him. It was not long before Felix sought out the newly promoted footman and for the first time they met late that evening in the boat house.

No words were spoken, they collapsed in a frenzied embrace on the couch and clothes were hurriedly cast off so that their two naked bodies flashed in the moonlight that shone through the large window that overlooked the lake. Felix suddenly felt hot lips on his massive erection, the hardest he had ever experienced. As Bruno sucked and licked on his cock head, he fondled With Felix’s balls, adding to the delight while his other hand reached up to Felix’s face and fingers were plunged into his gasping mouth. Felix sucked on Bruno’s fingers eager to take his turn to suck on the footman’s hard, long cock that was pressing against his leg. Felix would have to remember not to think of Bruno as a footman any more. No longer a servant but a partner but an equal in every sense of the word.

Felix would often think of Bruno when they were apart for the shortest of time. He was enthralled by every aspect of his manly body and the wonder of its workings. He recalled the first time that Bruno had straddled his prone body to suck on his dick. His fabulous bubble butt was displayed in all its glory almost touching his nose. In the deep cleft among a small tangle of dark hair his pinkish-purple anus winked at him; its tight little, almost miniscule, folds of muscle that controlled its opening and closing a source of lust-filled wonderment. A place that Bruno kept scrupulously clean at all times, that had a sweet odor, that feint muskiness similar - though different to the scent of the hairs under his armpits. The hairs in his pits dark and shining with a gloss of perspiration that would become ever more copious as their sex play gathered momentum to its final earth shattering finale. That little death when behind closed eyes stars flashed as the electric tingle ran up his spine to make his brain all but explode at each climax. His cock would jerk involuntarily as jet after jet of creamy white cum splattered on anything in its deliciously violent and expressive path.

Memories of their first encounter were replayed over and over, no second forgotten, every second enjoyed afresh when Felix thought upon it. It seemed impossible that the experience could be duplicated but each time he made love with Bruno the experience became ever more intense and satisfying, each touch - however light, each feeling, each sensation adding to his bank of recollection to fill his dreams and idle moments. Felix had to admit that for him, Bruno was more than a partner, he was an addiction!

During the downtime after one of their hot in-bed sessions Felix said, ‘We need a servant; someone to shop and clean and cook for us.’

‘But I do most of that and you help, we get along,’ Bruno replied.

‘You should not be doing those chores. You are no longer an employee you are my other half, my soul mate and as such you should not have to labour any more than I,’ Felix said. ‘We shall get a man servant. The concierge obliged by giving them the address of Monsieur Nordcôte, who ran a domestic agency.

The next day they wandered into the recommended agency office and explained what they required and the owner, who was a strange and enigmatic figure in a flowing cloak and beret, said that he would do his best to find the perfect creature to wait upon the honoured gentlemen.

‘Not so sure that we want a ‘creature’,’ Felix laughed as they left the dingy office occupied by Monsieur Nordcôte.

‘That man was so odd, maybe his clients expect strange people to enrol with him. We’ll see what he introduces soon enough,’ Bruno said. That very afternoon a young man called at the apartment carrying a letter of introduction from Nordcôte. He had acceptable references from two previous employers, both posts having been terminated as the employers had gone abroad. However, it was the following morning that another man appeared. This was Armand, a darkly handsome fellow with typical Mediterranean looks. His references were impeccable and Bruno agreed with Felix that he would make an ideal addition to their ménage. Neither suspecting nor realizing that by their choice they were to create a ménage à trois with fatal consequences.

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

This enchanting tale has such a wonderfully dramatic yet romantic air to it. We have two exquisite men, madly in love, yet blinded by their hidden lust for a third. Always makes for an exciting and mysterious saga. Great work, Auto. I'm hooked on it......

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Chapter Twenty-nine

Armand was intrigued by the two young foreigners who had employed him. Obviously they had money, their apartment was well appointed and the room they had allotted to him was more than he could have hoped for as a mere house servant. He was convinced that they had employed him without too much attention to his past or qualifications for the job on account of his looks; after all it was clear to him that they were both homosexuals. It was as well that they did not delve into his past otherwise they may have been less inclined to employ him. His references were supplied not by former employers but his friend Mario. He had once been in honest employment but his recent past had been spent in jail. Not that he was a criminal in the real sense. His crimes were those of opposing the government of the day. Like many young men in France he was guilty of speaking out against the oppression of working class people, the poor wages and harsh working conditions. The French Revolution was supposed to have swept away the rich aristocrats who lived off the backs of the down trodden poor. The old aristos had been replaced by a new elite that in its way was just as bad. Factory owners and the nouveau riche who treated the working classes as little more than slaves. The reality of a new revolution was becoming a strong possibility.

Armand had been arrested in the very early hours of the morning and hauled off to prison where he was held without trial. During his incarceration he was beaten and assaulted by interrogators who were hell bent on discovering the names of those who were stirring up unrest in the capital. Loyal to his friends and their cause, Armand resisted all attempts to obtain information from him and in the end he was released without charge. His employment by Felix and Bruno gave him the opportunity to remain in the city and in contact with his friends. His new employers were very reasonable men and he had free time in the evenings to meet with his co-conspirators in a back street bistro.

Felix and Bruno were very satisfied with their new employee. He proved to be a prudent shopper and their household bills less extravagant as they had been when they looking after themselves. Armand could also cook as well as keep the apartment clean and tidy. All in all he was considered a godsend. The trio slipped into an easy routine and although Armand was the servant he was treated fairly and with respect by his employers. Conscious that the relationship between Felix and Bruno was more than just house mates Armand tended to turn a blind eye and deaf ear to all he saw and heard. As a student he had experimented with sex in most of its forms and was not averse to what occurred between male lovers. He had found fellatio stimulating while anal sex such as he had been obliged to endure while in prison less so. Felix in particular was uninhibited and would walk naked around the apartment. Bruno was somewhat more reserved but even he could be seen going from bedroom to bathroom as nature intended. Armand had to admit to himself that he found their exposed bodies arousing. On those occasions when he could hear the two men making love in the confines of their bedroom, he closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to join them and relived his tension in the time honoured fashion with his fist. Masturbation was a poor substitute for one to one sex and he longed for more.

There was no shortage of prostitutes and bordellos in Gai Paris and Armand had sampled more than a few in his time. There were bars where it as possible to pick up a male prostitute, there were stable lads and jockeys at the race course who were willing to go with a gentleman for a couple of drinks or a few francs. Armand was not averse to taking francs from a presentable punter and as he was not reliant upon income from selling his body, he could afford to be choosey.

oooooOOOOOooooo

Some weeks after Armand had been employed Felix received a letter from his sister. She said that Emmaline’s brother, Rudolf had been enquiring after him and was proposing to travel to Paris. He was angry with Felix as he had called off his betrothal to his sister and was threatening to challenge him to a duel. Nicholas was a serving cavalry officer and of a similar age to Felix. A known hot head and a bully, Felix had reason to be fearful of Nicholas. They had never been on good terms as Nicholas regarded Felix as a weak man more interested in art than the manly pursuits of an army officer.

Armand had overheard Felix discussing the content of the letter with Bruno and was concerned by the thought that if Felix were to be killed by Rudolf the income that was sustaining all three of them would be lost as Bruno would not be able to afford the apartment neither would he be able to pay Armand his wages. It appeared that Rudolf knew that Felix was in Paris and had an idea in what part of the city he might be found but he did not know the actual address. He did learn that there was a stranger asking around trying to locate Felix and this gave him an idea. Without too much trouble, Armand was able to find Rudolf as he sat questioning patrons of a nearby bistro.

‘Excuse me, sir,’ he said. ‘I think I know where the man you seek lives and I could deliver a message to him on your behalf. Rudolf handed Armand a note and a couple of coins. ‘Deliver this for me and return with an answer and I will pay you more my man,’ he said. Armand quickly left the bistro and making sure that Rudolf was not following him, he opened the note. It said, ‘Meet me at dawn on Friday of this week behind the church of St. Vincent de Paul together with your seconds. We fight with pistols.’

The note was short and to the point and Armand was determined not to deliver it. Instead, with two days to spare, he contacted some friends with a view to recruiting their aid. The next morning he delivered a note to Rudolf that purported to have been written by Felix. It accepted the challenge and Rudolf, rubbing his hands with glee at the thought of annihilating the man who had humiliated his sister, gave Armand a gold Louis as a reward.

Felix meanwhile was anticipating contact by Rudolf and as each day passed felt that the threat of his arrival in Paris contained in Amelia’s letter was unfounded. Armand had said nothing about his encounter with Rudolf and prayed that the man would be satisfied to wait until Friday without making any further enquires about Felix’s whereabouts. Armand’s hopes were fulfilled and he crept out of the apartment before dawn on Friday morning to meet his friends. Together they made their way to the place Rudolf had nominated for the duel and waited for the challenger and his seconds to arrive. Before long they heard voices as three men approached through the mist that swirled around the buildings that stood black against the sky that was slowly brightening as the sun crept above the eastern horizon.

At a given signal the small group of men that had been recruited by Armand ambushed the unsuspecting Rudolf and his two seconds. The three were quickly disarmed and trussed up like chickens. They were then bundled protesting loudly into a coach that was driven at speed out of the city. Rudolf and his friends were unaware of where they were being taken and demanded to be released. Their demands were unmet and eventually they were dragged from the coach into a barn where they were sat on bales of straw. They had not been able to see their assailants and were now confronted by three masked men with pistols aimed in their direction while another also masked and who seemed to be the leader spoke to them.

‘You, monsieur have arrived in Paris hell bent on causing trouble. We can give you two alternatives. You can return to your own country and leave Felix in peace or if you refuse and do not give us your word that you will go home, we shall have you forced into service with a new military force that is being planned. It is intended to create a foreign legion that will be based in North Africa. There will be French officers, one of whom will be me. The men under our command will be dissidents, revolutionaries and mercenaries who have no place in normal society. The life will be hard. We shall give you just one hour to consider our proposal.’ The masked man then turned to the guards and said ‘Watch them well and shoot to kill if anyone tries to escape.’

Rudolf and his companions muttered to each other so that their captors could not hear their deliberations. When the officer returned Rudolf demanded, Did Felix put you up to this?’

‘No, Felix does not even know of your presences here in France. Your note was never delivered to him. We are his friends and we do not condone what you had in mind. Now what have you decided?’
‘We shall go home, the alternative is not acceptable. You have our word that we shall not harm Felix now or in the future.’

‘You will each sign a declaration to that effect and if he does suffer any harm we shall report you to the authorities as these papers will be evidence of your guilt whether or not you are responsible. So, messieurs it is in your interest to ensure his safety at all times.’

oooooOOOOOooooo

Armand was pleased to learn that his contacts had dealt with Rudolf and happy that the threat against his master had evaporated, continued with his duties.

‘You seem unusually happy today, Armand,’ Bruno remarked.

‘Yes sir, I have had some good news concerning an acquaintance of mine. He seemed to be in some danger but the danger has passed.’

‘What’s that?’ Felix asked as he came into the room.

‘Armand has had some good news about someone he knows; that is why he is so happy.’ Bruno replied.

‘Good to know someone is happy,’ Felix said. ‘I am still worried about the fact that Rudolf may be headed in this direction.’

‘I doubt it,’ Bruno said. ‘After all, if what Alicia said made any sense at all, he would have got here by now and it would not be so difficult for him to track you down. Forget about him.’

‘I’ll try,’ Felix replied. ‘You’re going out this morning I think?’

‘Yes,’ Bruno said. ‘My cousin is in Paris and I have arranged to meet him. He has invited me to stay over with him at his lodgings, so I will be back tomorrow.’ Felix left the room and Bruno collected his overnight bag saying to Armand, ‘Keep an eye on him and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

With Bruno out of the way Armand saw an opportunity to approach Felix. He had hoped for such a break as he felt horny whenever Felix as near and he had a massive crush on his employer. He felt Felix unknowingly owed him a debt and he wanted to collect. Felix had gone to lie down, so Armand made some hot chocolate and took it to the bedroom.

‘M. Felix, I have brought you some chocolate,’ he said as he placed the cup on the bedside table. Felix looked up, his face sad as Bruno had left for the day and he was still worried about Rudolf’s threat.

‘I think a massage would help to lift your spirits,’ Armand offered. ‘I have some skill learned from a previous employer. I a sure it would help,’ he said.

‘If nothing else, it will help to fill the time,’ Felix said. ‘And thank you for the chocolate; I’ll drink it once it has cooled a little.’

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

I concur with the above honorable gentlemen. Although Armand may have been a little devious in regards to Rudolph and his companions, no violence occurred and the protection of Felix was fulfilled. A bit more devious is his plan to seduce his employer, but again, one has to admit that Felix and Bruno have both found Armand extremely attractive. It would have been more prudent to arrange a Ménage à trois. However, since he has not, we will have to see where all this will end...

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Chapter Thirty

Bruno stepped out onto the street from the entrance to the apartment and looked for a cab. There were several of the horse drawn vehicles nearby and the driver of one that was parked opposite where he was standing called out to him. He quickly crossed the boulevard and shouting his destination to the driver, climbed aboard. He threw his valise containing his overnight requirements onto the floor and sat down before he realised that there were two men in the cab. The cab drove off at a fast pace and Bruno said ‘Bon jour,’ to each of his fellow travellers in turn but neither replied. Looking out the small window he saw that the cab was going in the wrong direction. He stood up and banged on the front wall of the cab to attract the driver’s attention but one of the men told him to sit down and keep quiet.

Bruno was beginning to feel afraid wondering, who were these men and why was the cabby driving him at speed in the opposite direction that he needed to go.

‘If you know what is good for you; you will sit down and say nothing,’ the second man told him. ‘You will know soon enough where you are being taken.’

oooooOOOOOooooo

The ever resourceful Armand had located a table in a closet that was a little over six feet long and just wide enough to accommodate a person. Intended for use as a buffet table when entertaining, it suited the purpose of the would-be masseur who had dragged it into Felix’s bedroom and covered it with towels.

‘If Monsieur Felix would kindly discard his robe and lay upon this table, I shall begin,’ Armand said politely. Felix did as asked and settled himself face down on the table with just a small towel to cover his buttocks. Armand had further excelled himself by producing some scented oil and he proceeded to trickle some up and down Felix’s spine. Felix trembled a little as he felt the oil on his back and then let out a sigh as Armand’s oil-slicked hands began their work. Starting with Felix’s shoulder muscles, Armand kneaded the taught flesh and then slowly he administered pressure down the length of Felix’s back, stopping as he reached the edge of the modestly located towel and then returning over and over as Felix became more and more relaxed.

Turning his attention to his master’s legs, Armand used more oil to ease the tension from calves and feet until finally he stated work on the firm thighs that were finely tuned by regular horse riding. The upper thighs were smoothed and worked with skill and Armand’s hands did not stop at the edge of the towel but continued up and under it. He felt Felix’s buttocks tense, relax and then part as the prone subject of the servant’s ministrations spread his legs a little wider.

‘Time to turn over onto your back,’ Armand coaxed and Felix obeyed, the towel falling aside as he did so. His generously proportioned manhood was naked beneath Armand’s appreciative gaze. From his position, Felix was unable to see the growing bulge in Armand’s trousers, not that he could see anything as he had his eyes closed as he drifted in that hazy zone between sleeping and waking. Armand’s hands worked miracles and grew ever more sensual as they rubbed over his chest with its aroused nipples, his taut abdomen and around the base of his slowly growing shaft.

Tenderly, Armand let his fingers brush against the ball sack and as Felix raised no objection he weighed the balls in his hand before taking a light hold on the now semi-erect penis and stroking it gently until fully proud. Putting aside all caution, he took his opportunity and brought his lips down to the single eye that peeped from the folds of Felix’s foreskin. The pearly drop tasted sweetly salty on his tongue and for the first time Felix spoke. Not to reprimand but request that Armand take the whole of his penis into his mouth and give satisfaction.

Felix was lifted to another plane as waves of pleasure coursed from his manhood to the remainder of his frame, now filled with lust he sat up and grabbed at Armand, instructing him to remove his clothes with all possible haste. Within seconds the two bodies lay entwined on the bed and hands, mouths and fingers explored and thrilled by touch and touching. The master in an act akin to the fabled ‘droit du seigneur’, plunged his rampant cock into the ass of his servant. Penetration achieved friction of flesh in flesh culminated in an explosion of unbridled lust. The participants in this orgiastic coupling lay panting and replete upon sheets soaked with the sweat and juices of their bodies until Morpheus touched their eyes and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

oooooOOOOOooooo

The coach carrying the captive Bruno travelled on through the night with only the occasional halt for the occupants to relieve their bladders. Bruno’s captors produced a hamper with some refreshments which they shared with him. His efforts to escape during one of the comfort stops was quickly foiled and he was warned that of he tried to run off he would b shot down without mercy. At yet another stop he was kept gagged and bound upon the floor of the coach while the horse were changed and fresh supplies were obtained to replenish the contents of the hamper. Still Bruno had no idea where he was headed and the men who were responsible for his abduction would not offer him any hint or explanation.

Eventually, he could hear the harsh cries of seagulls and the salty smell of the sea wafted in through the lowered window of the carriage. The horse drew to a halt and Bruno was hustled from the coach and up the gang plank of a ship that was tied up to the harbour. Rough hands received him and he was thrown into a hold where a motley collection of men lay huddled. One young man looked more genteel than his companions and Bruno asked, ‘Why are we here; what is this ship?’ The young man looked up at him with fear filled eyes, ‘We are being taken to North Africa, surely you must know that we are being pressed into the new French Foreign Legion.’

‘But why me? What have I done to deserve this?’ Bruno asked.

‘What have any of us done?’ answered a man who sat in the shadows of the hold. ‘I was taken off the street, my wife will be wondering where I am and I have no way of telling her.’

‘I was on my way to prison for having stolen a loaf to feed my kids,’ said another. ‘The men who took me said that this would be a better alternative to the punishment of hard labour in jail.’

‘Stop that noise down there!’ a voice shouted at the men in the hold. ‘We sail on the tide in just an hour. Once we are at sea you will all be told your fate, meanwhile Felix Manontov you are wanted on deck by Captain Dubois.’ Bruno was aghast to hear the name of his partner, could it be that he had been taken in mistake for his partner? Again the voice shouted. Manontov come up on deck!’ As no one else made a move Bruno climbed the companion way and stood blinking in the sunlight. An austere looking man who clearly was the master of the ship eyed him over. ‘You are Felix Manontov?’

‘No sir,’ Bruno replied. ‘There must be some mistake, I am his friend.’

‘Can you prove that, have you any means of identification about you?’ the captain demanded.

‘No sir, I have not but I can assure you I am not Felix,’ Bruno said.

‘So you think you can escape by denying who you are? The men who brought you here are reliable and I believe them. I was able to offer you better accommodation as a prospective officer in the Foreign Legion but you obstinate denial means you can go back in the hold with the rest of the scum I am obliged to carry to Algiers. Take him down,’ the captain told the brutal looking sergeant standing at his side. Bruno found himself among the other fearful men once again and he sat in the gloom of the hold agonising over his plight.

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

I might suspect Armand possibly being behind Bruno's misfortune, but his captors grabbed him by mistake. And, with that thought, finding that they failed, Felix could still be in danger of also meeting the same fate.

Eagerly awaiting More!

All the more reasons to ... no matter what ...

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

WISDOM is the Knowledge you've gained ... After you could have used it!_Me

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Ah, the famous French Foreign Legion. Bruno must be strong and unite those unfortunate men. We must have a mutiny on the bounty....... Meanwhile, Felix and Armand, after their amorous encounter, must rally the troops to find poor Bruno. A Ménage à trois cannot be accomplished without Bruno.

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Chapter Thirty-One

The fact that Bruno had not returned at the expected time caused Felix some concern. He felt guilty that he had sex with Armand and began to think that Bruno had somehow found out and was staying away as a result. Then he thought that he was being stupid as there was no way that Bruno could have known. Armand had gone out to buy some supplies and had stopped by the bistro where his friends met. There he discovered Mario who greeted him warmly. ‘Hey Armand, my friend, I hear your master has been picked up by the bounty hunters who are gathering up recruits for the new foreign legion.’

‘You mean Bruno?’ Armand asked, shocked by what Mario had said.

‘No, it was Felix,’ Mario replied.

‘What in just the last half hour or so? I have only jest left him.’ Armand exclaimed. @You must be mistaken.’

‘No, I can assure you he was taken as he left home a couple of days ago.’ Mario replied.

‘Then they must have taken Bruno! My God what can we do?’ Armand said in horror. ‘I must get back to Felix now. Will you come with me? He will want to know everything you can tell us.’ Mario agreed and together they returned to the apartment. Felix listened to what Mario had to say and paced up and down the room frantic in the knowledge of his lover’s abduction. ‘We must go after him and get him back!’ he exclaimed.

The three men went to the livery stables and hired horses for the journey south to the port where the ship would sail to Algeria. When eventually they reached the coast they found that the ship they were seeking had left. They called on the harbour master who told them regretfully that they were a day too late. ‘There is a small ship leaving here in an hour or so, I can introduce you to the captain. So far as I know the men being taken as recruits are being held in barracks in Algiers, you may find your friend there.’

Determined to do everything in his power to rescue Bruno Felix thanked the harbour master and went off to see the captain of the ship due to leave for the African coast. Armand and Mario insisted that they accompany him. ‘We have come this far, we must help you see this through,’ Mario said. The ship was hardly large enough to be called anything other than a boat and the captain was asking for an extortionate sum to take the three companions with him. Felix was desperate and agreed to pay whatever the man demanded so long as he made haste and got them to Algeria in the fastest possible time.

A favourable wind filled the sails of the small vessel and it was soon speeding on its way across the sea headed for the African continent. Felix prayed that they would get to the barracks in time to rescue Bruno before he was taken off to some desert outpost having learned from Mario, who seemed to be well informed about the new military force that the regime was harsh and uncompromising having in mind the kind of men who were being forced into service.

oooooOOOOOooooo

The barracks where Bruno was being held was primitive in the extreme. On their arrival the men who were to join the legion were told to strip and were given a cursory inspection by a doctor who handled each one of them roughly as he ensured they were free from venereal diseases; his examination bordered on assault in many cases and Bruno was embarrassed as he felt the medico’s fingers on his penis and probing his nether region.

The medical examinations over, the men were lined up in the yard and hosed down before being issued with rough linen pants, jackets, boots and a kepi that had a flap at the back to keep the sun off their necks. The sergeant had told them that they were to ensure that they did not suffer from sunstroke as that would be considered a self inflicted injury resulting in punishment. The final piece of clothing was a stout pair of boots. Bruno found his uniform uncomfortable as the rough material rubbed his skin made all the more unpleasant in the sub tropical heat. The only good thing about the place was the food. The legion wanted its men to be fit, so they were well fed and exercised. Drill and arms training kept the men occupied while they awaited further recruits to arrive when they would be marched out into the desert to man remote forts.

Most of the other recruits were little more than ruffians, the kind of men you would not wish to meet on a dark night lest you end up with your throat cut. A young black man sidled up to Bruno, clearly fearful of the men around him. Bruno took to the young man as he too did not trust the others. Some had made suggestive remarks saying that a young ass was a good substitute for a woman when women were is short supply. Bruno had also heard them say that black ass was also tempting. Jono, the young black lad rolled his eyes wildly when a gang of men approached him. Bruno stood by him and the men muttered and walked away. At night they were locked in a long barrack room where they each had a iron framed single bed with a straw mattress and a single sheet as covering. The air was hot and humid and Bruno found it hard to sleep with the around of men snoring while others were unconcerned that they could be heard groaning as they masturbated.

Jojo and Bruno were of similar height so that when they were on parade they stood alongside one another and soon became firm friends. Privacy was at a premium and they had little opportunity to be alone to talk but Bruno learned that Jono had been a servant in a large house in Marseilles. He had gone on an errand for his master and had been snatched by bounty hunters in much the same way as Bruno had been. Together they plotted their escape but found little or no opportunity to break free of the barracks. They both trembled when they heard that they would be marched south into the desert in a week’s time.

oooooOOOOOooooo

The small vessel carrying Felix, Armand and Mario drew into the Algerian harbour and the three men thanked the captain before stepping ashore. A trader with a small cart hauled by a mule agreed to take them to the barracks. Mario said that he would act as spokesman and an appointment was made for a meeting with the adjutant. He listened intently when Mario explained that Bruno, the son of a wealthy and influential family had been kidnapped and brought to Algiers against his will. There would be serious repercussions if he was not released immediately, Mario explained. The officer saw an opportunity to make some money from the situation and said that Bruno could be released but that a bounty payment would be required.

Felix told Mario that the matter of such a payment was no problem and a figure was agreed upon. Bruno was located by the duty sergeant and brought to the adjutant’s office where he was overjoyed to meet his friends. He told them about Jono and a further payment was made for his release as well. The five companions felt that their enterprise had gone all too smoothly and were anxious to leave the country without delay. They were also apprehensive about returning to France as they had no desire to fall foul of the bounty hunters who were picking men o=ff the streets and handing them over as recruits for the new Foreign Legion.

First things first, they found an inn on the western side of the city well away from the barracks and stayed overnight. It was a place used extensively by traders who travelled to and from Morocco. The innkeeper told them that it would be possible for them to join a caravan leaving for Morocco i the morning and he introduced them to Hassan, the Arab trader concerned. The man spoke passable French and was able to negotiate with the five companions. He had had little contact with Caucasians and was intrigued by the whiteness of their skins. Jono was amused the see their reaction as he had been the one who had borne the brunt of curious people while he had lived in France. Hassan offered to reduce his price for their transit to Morocco if one of the white men was prepared to sleep with him. In order to put pressure onto the unwilling whites he said that if one of them did not agree to his proposition he would not allow Jono to travel with them.

‘We have no alternative but to draw straws,’ Felix suggested. ‘Either that or toss a coin.’ After a short discussion among the group, ‘Straws it is then,’ Felix announced. Jono who was not required to join Hassan for the night was made referee and given the task of finding four straws. Whoever drew the shortest straw would be Hassan’s bedfellow. Jono held out his fist and each man in turn took hold of a straw and drew it out from Jono’s grasp. They each looked apprehensively at the straw they had drawn and all eyes fell on Mario who to his dismay had the shortest one of all.

Armand did his best to console his friend. ‘You have to admit that Hassan is rather dashing, he is the epitome of the Arab Sheik who takes the heroine off on his steed to his tent in the desert oasis for a night of passion. This inn may not be quite such a romantic location and you are hardly a heroine but you are our hero come the hour and I am slightly jealous that you should have drawn the short straw.’

‘Thanks,’ Mario replied, ‘maybe you should go in my place?’

‘Err... no,’ Armand laughed, ‘you are on tonight’s menu, I would not want to disappoint Hassan as he looked pleased that you were to join him. Good luck!’ The other guys gathered around Mario and gave him a group hug wishing him well.

Not knowing what to expect, Mario presented himself at the appointed hour at the door of Hassan’s room. He knocked and heard the Arab call to him to enter. The room came as a surprise as it was far more splendid than the ones that had been allocated to him and his companions. It was opulently decorated and opposite the door was a large divan upon which Hassan sat cross legged. He was wearing a shimmering gown that looked like expensive silk. His head was adorned by a white turban, also of silk with a large jewel on the front. Hassan looked every inch the noble sheik of romantic fiction.

He motioned Mario to stand before him and when he clicked his fingers two scantily glad nubile androgynous figures appeared from behind a screen. One stood on either side of Mario awaiting instructions from their master. From the corners of his eyes could see that the new arrivals were young men. They wore short sleeveless jackets and baggy harem pants that were so sheer that they allowed Mario to assess the beauty of their semi-hard larger than average manhood. Hassan clicked his fingers again and this was the signal the two acolytes to turn to face Mario and to start to remove his clothes. First one loosened his cravat while the other undid the buttons on his shirt. Together they pulled his shirt free of his pants and they then took it off.

Acting in unison, they stooped and removed his boots. Standing again, they reached for the fastenings on his pants and pulled them down to his ankles. With a single movement they removed his stockings and pants leaving Mario in just his drawers. Hassan watched their progress intently and nodded his approval for his servants to remove Mario’s last vestige of clothing. Now completely naked, Mario blushed under the gaze of the handsome Arab. One of the acolytes took a bowl of warm scented water from a cadenza and the other used a sponge dipped in it to wash Mario’s body applying particular attention to his crotch and ass. Mario’s toilet was completed and he was dried with care and then offered a jacket and harem pants that matched those worn by the two young men. Mario stood in his new revealing attire awaiting Hassan’s next move.

Hassan clapped his hands and his acolytes bowed and quickly left the room. Hassan then beckoned to Mario to join him on the divan.

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Aw!, Yes!, it seems that Money CAN buy intangible things, like Freedom, if not complete Happiness. And, Sex, a different, though maybe more 'powerful' currency, can also be used to acquire what might be needed at the time!

Though Mario may have been apprehensive, as far as his role of "taking one for the team", it would seem like that might not prove to be quite as bad as what he was expecting, and may even turn out to be much more pleasurable than what he (and the others) were envisioning!

I'm certainly looking forward to hearing much more about "our boys", and their adventures!!

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

WISDOM is the Knowledge you've gained ... After you could have used it!_Me

Re: Tales from Gledhill House

Goodness, Auto, this sounds like a chapter out of the Arabian Nights. I'm jealous of Mario...... Those handsome Arabs are such a turn-on. But, back to our other boys...at least Bruno and Jojo were saved from the terrible experience of the Foreign Legion, yet we do not know what awaits them all in Morocco. And, will Felix ever learn who sent the bounty hunters after him?????